Tag Archives: culture

El Cheapo Movie Day

Hi readers.

The cats and I watched the Royal Geographic Society 1953 production, the Conquest of Mount Everest.  Not too bad, though it was all stuff from the actual expedition instead of some story and acters to pretend they were Bill and Hillary.

Fact is I never realized before that Bill and Hillary were the first conquerers of Mount Everest.  Never knew the Royal Geographic Society sponsored them to hire about a hundred Mexicans fromn Nepal to tote all their equipment into those mountains, along with various white men to take care of matters inevitable involving intellect the Mexicans from Nepal weren’t equipped to deal with.

Anyway, it was informative, educational and interesting, partly because one of the Mexicans reached within 500 feet of the summit.

Afterward the cats and I watched Lassie.  The only thing I remember about the last time I saw Lassie was my sister, Frances, sitting beside me in the Kiva, or Yam Theater in Portales, yowling, “Poor Lassie.  Poooooor Lassie!”

Turned out it isn’t as bad a movie as you’re probably figuring it was. Edifying, educational and satisfying.

Then the cats and I watched Captain Scarface, a movie about a bunch of Rooskie spies trying to set off an atomic bomb in the hold of a ship to destroy the Panama Canal.

But that’s another story.

Old Jules

Man With the Golden Arm

The cats and I watched Frank Sinatra and Kim Novak fight heroin, illegal card games, manipulating faked handicap entrapping lying wives [Eleanor Parker] and a NYC when even all this was still good clean fun.

Ahhh Kim Novak.  1955.  Probably after her first film, Picnic.  Ahhh, Kim Novak, who looked so much like Noreen Nix of Portales, New Mexico, a couple of years older than me, that Noreen and Kim were of equal value in the heart-stopping beauty department.

Law law law, old Eleanor Parker managed to teach a youngster in that one movie how bolloxed up the right sort of guilt trips could send a person into a tailspin with only the most fortunate circumstances allowing recovery and survival.

But worth it if Noreen Nix was waiting at the other end.  Or even Kim Novak.

Old Jules

Joined at the hip

Good morning readers.

Hanging around an RV during a week-long ice storm is a good time for a person to boil down blessings and scrape them off the bottom of the pot.  I’d been doing a lot of reading nights before the water froze, but reading requires a level of involvement I was decreasingly able to maintain what with various uncertaintainties nagging for my attention.

So when I went in to Andrews to get my new tires put onto the ground I swung by an Alco store, which is the be all and end all in Andrews for certain types of purchases.  Bought a box of movie DVDs called Nifty Fifties for a few bucks.  50 movies from back when.

Nights if my attention span doesn’t feel up to reading I watch a movie.  Saw one a few nights ago with Sydney Portier and Eartha Kitt, him being an African firebrand leader named Obam, which was worth the price of admission.

But last night I saw Chained Forever, or something of the sort.  Two sisters joined at the hip, a Vaudeville singing act, trying to make lives of themselves in a world where the rules of behavior assume a lot about the rule-followers not being joined at the hip.

One of the sisters ‘falls in love’ with a marksmanship act guy who might have returned her affection had it not been for the party of the third part they’d have to drag along.  All manner of difficulties with laws, also, trying to get marriage licences for the party of the first part and the party of the second part while ignoring the party of the third part without any bigamy issues.

Fun movie, though daft.

Fact is, being joined at the hip just ain’t that uncommon.  Jack and Bobby Kennedy became joined at the hip at some point during the late 1950s and nobody even noticed.  George Bush Sr. and George Bush Jr. were joined at the hip similarly but it mostly just manifested itself in wars in Iraq and other matters.

Hillary Clinton, Janet Reno and Bill Clinton were all joined at the hip though nobody noticed until the Army, National Guard, FBI, and a million television cameras bunched up around Mount Pleasant outside Waco, Texas.  The joined-at-hip condition became more obvious afterward at Ruby Ridge, various real estate shennanigans, CIA importing cocaine into Arkansas airstrips for the trio, etc.

In fact, when you think of it a lot of modern life is dedicated to snooping out people who aren’t yet joined at the hip to something, or someone, and getting the knot tied to reduce the amount of trouble anyone’s likely to cause.  Sending them off to penal institutions for certain factions, joining the military for others, becoming rabid fans of this or that celebrity, music genre.

Time was joining at the hip was simpler.  People just got married.  But that was back before the age of enlightenment and marriages tended to last longer.  Now for any duration the joining at the hip has to cut a wider swath.

The way the Democrats and Republicans have blazed the trail for joined at the hip inclusiveness might well be the wave of the future.  Imagine.   Everyone finally agreeing at the bottom of things they’re just following the mandate of their hips, pulling the same direction despite themselves.

Old Jules

Big Spring Buggaboo Karma on the Half-shell

Hi readers.

1967, I’m going to say, though it might have been 1968, my somewhat newlywed wife and I headed from Houston to my home town of Portales, NM, for reasons I no longer fathom.  Driving a 10 year-old Fairlane 500.  Crossed the easy Texas parts without incident, but around midnight pulled over 12 miles outside Big Spring, TX to piss and kiss, most likely.

Shut down the engine and when I went to start it again the battery was dead.  Soooo, we bundled up and tried to sleep, but pre-dawn I was on the shoulder of the road trying to flag down someone with booster cables.  Watching the light emerge and a mesa-like hill across the highway a few miles.

Nice guy in a pickup stopped and boosted us off.  When I thanked him he commented he just couldn’t leave anyone stranded 12 miles outside Big Spring, Texas.  Fixed that hill to the west and the distance in my mind forever.

So last week when I was headed here, saw the sign south of Big Spring, BIG SPRING 13 miles and remembered, began watching for that hill.  There it was, just as obvious as that morning so long ago.

BOOM WHACK CLUNKCLUNKCLUNKBANGCLUNK!

Blew out the inside rear tire on the driver side.

But no way I was  pulling over and shutting down my engine.  So I drove on into Big Spring, eased west toward Andrews.  Didn’t blow the second tire until 15 miles from here.

Some things in this life a person doesn’t need to learn twice.  Even if he’s me.  That place 12 miles south of Big Springs is one of them.

Jack

Buffalo Bill’s Defunct – The Communist Toyota 4-Runner

That old 4-Runner had a quarter-million miles on it when my lady-friend sold it to me about a decade ago.  Until then it lived on the Zuni Rez.  Somewhere around there are pics of the 1998 Lost Adams Diggings Search, Amy met Gale, Dana and me on Fox Mountain driving it.  One more bug on the windshield of life.

That old 4-Runner had a quarter-million miles on it when my lady-friend sold it to me about a decade ago. Until then it lived on the Zuni Rez. Somewhere around there are pics of the 1998 Lost Adams Diggings Search, Amy met Gale, Dana and me on Fox Mountain driving it. One more bug on the windshield of life.

Toyota RV out by the same car dolly later in the day.  At 71 a person can’t be sentimental.

Buffalo Bill ‘s
defunct
who used to ride a watersmooth-silver stallion
and break onetwothreefourfive pigeonsjustlikethat
Jesus he was a handsome man
and what i want to know is
how do you like your blueeyed boy
Mister Death

by E. E. Cummings

Second best is fairly uppidy

A person can sit right at home indoors and use these.  Doesn't have go to into the woods, nothing.

A person can sit right at home indoors and use these. Doesn’t have go to into the woods, nothing.

A couple of days ago when I opened the package Jeanne sent I thought at first it was the best birthday present I ever got my entire life.  But as I thought on it I remembered the Victorinox Swiss Army Lensatic Compass my ex-wife gave me on my 45th birthday.  [Pictured under ‘Compass’ section of the Survival Book link above]

Okay.  There can only be one absolute no-questions-asked-no-prisoners-taken best birthday present a person ever got.  The compass ain’t giving up its position of prominence.

She sent a box of the metal 'Zebras' too.  They get lost worse than one sock of a pair.  I like the ones you see in the background, black, which I've had a longish while, but they're a bit thickset and rounded on the edges.  Plus they break.

She sent a box of the metal ‘Zebras’ too. They get lost worse than one sock of a pair. I like the ones you see in the background, black, which I’ve had a longish while, but they’re a bit thickset and rounded on the edges. Plus they break.

But how about them damned spoons?  Out there the other side of three-score-and-ten spoons step in and declare themselves.

Old Jules

Pension Pioneers – Living the Social Security adventure

Some of you might find this brand spanking new Facebook group interesting, amusing, edifying, or boring as hell with no mitigating and no otherwise redeeming qualities.

https://www.facebook.com/groups/416502788479344/

Jack Purcell

DST time change toasts another Timex

After two years the band will need replacement.  Odor, not wear will motivate you.  At three years the steel-appearing case begins to dissolve.  Underneath is a rough synthetic material which, when exposed to shirt sleeves, wears them out.

After two years the band will need replacement. Odor, not wear will motivate you. At three years the steel-appearing case begins to dissolve. Underneath is a rough synthetic material which, when exposed to shirt sleeves, wears them out.

Hi readers.

Several years ago, five years if memory serves, I bought this watch because my previous Timex Expedition refused to turn loose of the stem when I tried to set in the new DST time.  I forced it and the watch upchucked the entire stem.

I saw this one coming.  The case is far advanced toward dissolving entirely.  I never mess with the stem until time change because I like to get as many minutes and hours out of my watches as possible.

But Jeanne sent me an email yesterday telling me it’s time change time again.  So around 3 am pre-time change I woke, stepped outdoors to pee, and glanced at my watch.  Remembered I needed to change the time.

Yawn.  Began fighting to pull the stem out just enough to set the watch.  Stuck.  Got my pocket knife, pried it out, just a little.  Date window spun, hands of the watch thumb their noses at me.

Sheeze.  Found a small pair of needle nose pliars.  Carefully carefully carefully pull the stem.  Spang!  Whole damned stem-rod came out.

So it seems I’m going to be visiting the WalMart watch department.  Find me a new damned Timex Expedition.   They’re up to $28.95 on Amazon.  Probably save a bit a week from now when they have their DST replacement sale.

Old Jules

 

Why Snowden blew the whistle

Snowden made a grave sacrifice for you, me, us.  He was a person who knew all about computers, electric telephones, all kinds of technology things and what’s going on with FaceBook and Yahoo News and blogs.

He knew when you look down the isles in grocery stores and see people squinting at cans, plastic bags, bottles in one hand, talking on cell phones in the other, the NSA was listening.  Recording.  Storing.  Every word.  Every background noise.  Preserving it for the future.

Snowden worried about that because every moment a million calls between the same sorts of people as those in the grocery store isles are also being recorded, listened to, stored, preserved.  Along with the background noises.

And Snowden knew at a visceral level that anyone who’d want to listen to those calls, record them, store them, could only be profoundly insane.  And anyone working for the profoundly insane person who conceptualized it would also soon be insane after being exposed to the prospect, the concept and the reality.

Snowden also knew countless millions of happy faces and inspiring thoughts fly around the internet every moment.  Billions of inspiring platitudes.  Trillions of “I heart my [fill in blank]” messages and touching pictures of puppies, kittens, and baby whales. 

Snowden knew no nation could survive the onslaught of such chaos except by trying to ignore it.   Listening, recording, storing it to preserve it for the future is the most dangerous activity in the history of mankind, and not only because it’s being done by sociopaths, psychopaths and otherwise osterized brains.  Noone, Snowden knew, in his right mind would ever even consider such a thing.

Snowden had to try to save the planet.

Old Jules

Why Napoleon’s troops shooting the nose off the Sphinx with artillery in 1799 was a good thing

Hi readers.

A lot of you probably think the world would have been just as good a place if Napoleon’s troops hadn’t shot the nose off the Sphinx practicing with artillery in 1799.  You might even think if they’d just stayed home in France and shot the noses off every Frenchman they could catch the world would be better off?

In the interest of science, Napoleon's troops couldn't know what would happen up there without shooting some artillery at it to find out.  Same as Hiroshima and Nagasaki later on.  Theories are worthless unless they're tested.

In the interest of science, Napoleon’s troops couldn’t know what would happen up there without shooting some artillery at it to find out. Same as Hiroshima and Nagasaki later on. Theories are worthless unless they’re tested.

Well, you’d be wrong.  Napoleon’s troops did just the right thing blowing off the nose of Sphinx.

Keep in mind, these were Frenchmen.  All they knew how to do at that point was try to take the heads off whatever got in the way.  But they saved the Sphinx.  If they'd left it alone until the British took over in 1802 the Sphinx would be in London.  Housed in a wonder-of-the-world-sized British Museum.  Same as everything else the British could haul off from every country they ever conquered.

Keep in mind, these were Frenchmen. All they knew how to do at that point was try to take the heads off whatever got in the way. But they saved the Sphinx. If they’d left it alone until the British took over in 1802 the Sphinx would be in London. Housed in a wonder-of-the-world-sized British Museum. Same as everything else the British could haul off from every country they ever conquered.

Once Napoleon’s troops finished nobody every had to do it again.  Anyone with half-an-eye could see what would happen if you shot the Sphinx in the nose with a piece of 1799 field artillery. 

And most importantly, Sphinx was flawed.  By 1802 when the British took Egypt they’d become selective, only stealing the most perfect artifacts.  Sphinx got to stay home in Egypt because of French artillery practice.

Which didn’t happen to the Rosetta Stone, which French troops found and got taken away from them by the British.

From the time Cleopatra offed herself with that adder, shortly thereafter, nobody knew how to read Egyptian hieroglyphs.  But thanks to those French troops, someone decided to steal the Rosetta Stone.

The Rosetta Stone is in the British Museum in London today.  It's been there since shortly after British officials stole it in 1802.  Most likely it will continue to reside in the British Museum until US troops have finished whatever they're doing in Europe.  When we finally bring the troops home from WWII the final act will be to drop the 8th Army into London, take over Heathrow Airport, and bring the Rosetta Stone and everything else in the British Museum to the United States where it rightfully belongs.

The Rosetta Stone is in the British Museum in London today. It’s been there since shortly after British officials stole it in 1802. Most likely it will continue to reside in the British Museum until US troops have finished whatever they’re doing in Europe. When we finally bring the troops home from WWII the final act will be to drop the 8th Army into London, take over Heathrow Airport, and bring the Rosetta Stone and everything else in the British Museum to the United States where it rightfully belongs.

Created 196 BC
Discovered 1799
Present location British Museum

The Rosetta Stone is an ancient Egyptian granodiorite stele inscribed with a decree issued at Memphis in 196 BC on behalf of King Ptolemy V. The decree appears in three scripts: the upper text is Ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, the middle portion Demotic script, and the lowest Ancient Greek. Because it presents essentially the same text in all three scripts (with some minor differences among them), it provided the key to the modern understanding of Egyptian hieroglyphs.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rosetta_Stone

When the contents of the British Museum finally are transported to the Smithsonian in Washington DC the British Empire will finally be a footnote of history, along with Napoleon, the Egyptians, and other backward peoples everywhere.

Old Jules